


Evening Falls

by bb-sock (saisei)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Deliberate Bad Fanart, Deliberate Badfic, Despair, Ethical Pathos, Homage to Corneliu Porumboiu, Metatextuality, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, Post-Industrialism, Post-Modern, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Violent Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/bb-sock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warrant Card witnesses, and despairs.  Evening: falls.</p><p>(The cheese grater is a metaphor.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening Falls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PinkCoffeeMosquitoJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCoffeeMosquitoJelly/gifts).



Evening falls hard, like the economy, like great men, like a torrent of bats taking wing. Evening falls, but there is no peace.

Evening has fallen. The floor is clean. Why is the floor clean? Why, when the curtains are open? It is a torment.

Once the Warrant card had been a witness. Blood, the smell of fear. The cheese grater, if only its dreams were not haunted by the cheese grater. Pacing the room, camera flashes, dust in the air, outside sirens wail, spread out on the desk, it is all the Warrant Card can do. It is never enough.

  


It longs for home, a home it barely remembers. Time has passed. Time passes. Every second the impossibility of home becomes as certain as the darkness.

The Scarf has been hung by the neck, and sways in the breeze. The window is open, the curtains are open, death is in the air, and the meaty sounds of sex are an inescapable violence.

The Boredom drives into the Work in rage, in pistoning bursts and spurts. The Warrant Card is not the only one crying.

What do they want?

What does anyone want?

Lax, lazy, empty, twist, pull, undo, always the undoing, the unraveling, pull on a thread and it all falls down. Justice will be served like an exquisite luncheon, but the Warrant Card is not invited.

It will end in blood. Blood on the grater, blood on the cheese. The floor will never be clean again.

The Boredom defiles the Work again. Silence is as obscene as crime scene photographs. The Warrant Card yearns to take the Work home. It never will. The Work is strong. Stronger than all of them.

  


Footsteps; a tea set is removed. The curtains are closed. Darkness, and the Scarf observes all, but cannot speak.

  



End file.
